


Mechanics

by CavannaRose



Category: 2 Fast 2 Furious (2003), Fast & Furious (2009), Fast & Furious 6 (2013), Fast Five (2011), Fast and the Furious Series, The Fast and the Furious (2001), The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift (2006)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-08-28 11:43:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8444521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CavannaRose/pseuds/CavannaRose
Summary: Letty is dead. Brian is dead. Can Dominic ever move on?





	1. Chapter 1

Flying down the highway with no real destination in mind, Dominic Toretto let memories of Letty and Brian wash over him. He scrubbed the palm of his hand across his face, fighting that familiar burn of tears pooling behind them. Losing his best friend to a brain tumor had been worse than hell. Having his wife shot, and then to have her die in his arms had almost been his own death. He hadn’t even bothered to tell Mia he was going anywhere, he just… left. He needed to get out. He needed to drive.

 

A hissing sound followed by a loud pop broke his quiet contemplation, and Dominic let a string of curses escape under his breath as steam began to billow out from under the hood of his car. Wiping his face again, he looked around. He wasn’t sure what town he had entered, but there had to be a garage of some kind open around here somewhere, right?

 

He drove around the small town, almost right out through the other side before he came across the only garage in town. The sign out front said “Cooter’s”, in more than a passing nod to the old Dukes of Hazzard show. Wasn’t that always the way, down here in the south? As Dominic pulled in, a petite figure came around the side of the building. Dressed in a pair of oil-stained overalls, with her blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, the woman paused to take in his poor car. She clucked disapprovingly, wiping the last of the grease off her wrench before tucking it into her back pocket.

 

“What in the name of the good, sweet Lord have you done to that poor Charger? I could hear her crying all the way up the drive.” Without waiting for him to respond, or even for his permission, she moved to the front of the car, using her rag to pop the hood without burning her hand. She wrinkled her nose, brow furrowing over blue eyes. When she spoke, the words came out harsh, disapproval clear in her voice.

 

“I think you’ve gone and blown the distributor here… But you’re in luck; I’m an old car buff. I’ve got a ’56 Chevy pick ‘em up, myself. I think I’ve got half a rebuilt engine for the ’70 in the back. It certainly doesn’t have all the bells and whistles you got going here, but it’s got a distributor we can tinker with to work with your modifications.”

 

She worried her lip with her front teeth, squinting and leaning forward to have another look. “You know, street racing is hell on the serpentine belts, you might want to look into the 440 source set up if you’re going to keep up this wear and tear.”


	2. Chapter 2

Dominic only takes in about half of what the lady mechanic is saying. If the world still made sense, he’d be popping the hood himself and fixing his baby with his own two hands, not needing to bother anyone else. Nothing is normal right now. Not the way his world was crumbling, not the way his mind wouldn’t focus. He’d lost too much. It’s another long moment before he realized the woman had spoken to him, or asked him a question. He stared, the wrinkles in his brow deepening before the sounds clicked into words in his head.

“There’s a spare distributor in the trunk,” he mutters, clearing his throat, hating how thick and vulnerable his voice sounds. It’s not like him at all, but nothing is right anymore. Everything has gone to hell. He moves, with zombie-like motions, towards the trunk to pop it open and get the part. The heavy disappointment in the woman’s voice doesn’t even register with him. Hell, the abuse he’d dealt to his precious car wasn’t even affecting him right now.

Bobbi watched the stranger, a twinge of concern at the back of her mind. It wasn’t her business, but he was clearly hurting something fierce. She hadn’t been raised in a culture of women. Her Daddy and Mama hadn’t stayed together that long, and Mama… well they’d just never got along that well. Daddy had been a sweet, gentle man, but he wasn’t much for talking about feelings, and he definitely hadn’t approved in prying into the business of folks you don’t know.

Despite the urge to ask questions, Bobbi gave herself a shake, reminding herself that the stranger’s business was his own, and none of hers. She pulled her head back out from under the hood, waiting for Dominic to fetch the distributor. Who just kept parts like that lying around? Well… besides her. Admittedly this was getting curiouser and curiouser by the minute. Leaving a mystery unsolved wasn’t exactly in her nature… it was one of the reasons she’d followed in Daddy’s footsteps and become a mechanic. He used to say mechanics were like detectives, you find the clues that point to what’s wrong, and then you fix it.

Accepting the heavy metallic engine part, she frowned up at the bald man. “If’n ya want, there’s fresh lemonade in the garage fridge, or there’s coffee in the pot, but I think I mighta made it this morning so it might not be the best. Help yourself.” She pulled her wrench back out of its loop in her pants and frowned at the car. “I’m Bobbi, by-the-by. What’s your name, buddy? I need to know what to write on the bill.”


	3. Chapter 3

Dominic shakes his head when the female mechanic mentions beverages. He stared blankly at the engine, waiting for her to change the part. It took several seconds for him to figure out how to make his mouth work again. What else had she asked? His name?

 “Toretto,” he finally responds. “My name is Dominic Toretto.” He doesn’t worry that she’ll recognize his name. Not out here in the boonies. There’s nothing resembling street-racing out this way, and something just tells him that this Bobbi woman isn’t the type to keep up with stuff like that. Besides, he wasn’t a wanted criminal anymore. Almost as an afterthought, he adds, “Go ahead and put on that 440 source set, too.”

 Bobbi-Jo hid a grin. As far as she could tell, the man seemed to be holding a heavy burden. She was used to complex fellows with a quiet way of coping with the confusion in their own minds. She wasn’t much for prying, particularly when it came to strangers, but she was also bored. Sorting through all the repairs wasn’t going to take much thought, she could practically install the parts on autopilot.

 The entrepreneurial Miss Harris chewed her lip, leaning deep into the bowels of the vehicle’s engine, flourishing wrench and rag. After a few more minutes of work, she stood back up. Dragging her arm across her forehead, she barely noticed the black streak of grease it left across her pale skin. She shook out her hair, chasing what had escaped from her ponytail out of her eyes.

 “It’s gonna take a few hours to get the 440 switched in. Might go a little smoother if you can focus long enough to have a proper conversation, though I ain’t gonna force it on ya if ya insist.”


End file.
